


Hold Me Down

by landofhorses



Category: 19th Century CE RPF, Brokeback Mountain - All Media Types, The Hunger - Alma Katsu
Genre: Anal Sex, F/M, Hands Go In Mouth, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, James Reed is a Great Dad but a Shit Husband, James Reed's Praise Kink Makes a Brief Apperance, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rough Sex, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landofhorses/pseuds/landofhorses
Summary: They were both drunk – had been at the whisky and whatever else they could get their hands on since the sun had begun to set over the peak of the mountain. Caught up in the pleasure of each other’s company as they were, they hadn’t noticed that it was now so dark outside that the only light they had to see by was the dying campfire.
Relationships: James Reed/Edward McGee (Mentioned), James Reed/John Snyder (mentioned), James Reed/Margret Reed, William McCutchen (1816-1895)/James F. Reed
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Hold Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this is a The Hunger/Brokeback Mountain AU. No, I don't know why either. 
> 
> McCutchen is nicer to Reed in this scene then Ennis is to Jack, but only just barely.

They were both drunk – had been at the whisky and whatever else they could get their hands on since the sun had begun to set over the peak of the mountain. Caught up in the pleasure of each other’s company as they were, they hadn’t noticed that it was now so dark outside that the only light they had to see by was the dying campfire.

James figured that it was high time that they both went to bed. He got up unsteadily from his place slumped against the log, and dusted himself off the best he could under the circumstances before delivering a swift kick to his equally intoxicated companion who’d started to doze off at this point. Bill made a disgruntled noise as the boot connected to his side, but dutifully attempted to get to his feet – rather unsuccessfully as it would turn out, as the man couldn’t seem to get beyond his hands and knees.

“What are you doing?” James asks once he’s sure the laughter he feels rising in his chest won’t get the best of him. It wouldn’t do to make fun of a man while he was down and out, this was besides the fact that he knew that Bill could throw a mean punch even while drunk.

“I gotta go back to the sheep.” He mutters, would’ve been barely understandable to most people, but James has had plenty of time to get used to the way that Bill talks by now.

The man tries to get up once more and fails before sighing and dragging himself back to rest against their makeshift log bench again. “No – no I don’t. You won’t mind if I stay the night, would ya?” He finishes, pulling up the blanket they’d laid on the ground earlier around his shoulders like the answer didn’t matter.

“You can’t stay out here; you’ll freeze once the fire goes out.” James points at it for emphasis – the lingering hot coals not providing much in the way of warmth now, and it was only going to get worse. “Why don’t you come in the tent with me, there’s plenty of room.” He offers, not thinking on how bad an idea that may turn out to be, too giddy and drunk from the evening they’d just shared. Bill had spoken more in the last couple of hours than the whole of the rest of their time together, and it was making James feel things he knew he shouldn’t.

It didn’t matter anyway as the man waved him off, covering his face with his hat. James snorted, turning around and heading to the tent, bedding down without argument – if the idiot wanted to freeze to death then he wouldn’t stop him.

~*~

James woke a few hours later, the sounds of Bill’s chattering teeth and shivering too loud now to ignore. He rubbed a hand across his face to wake himself up a little – annoyed. He’d told that man he’d ought to just sleep in the tent, and now he’s gone and kept them both up like they don’t have a job they’ve got to do in the morning. Stubborn fool.

When it became clear that Bill had no intention of doing anything about the situation himself, James sat up, pulling off his blankets and leaning forwards to get a better look at the man’s curled form from the entrance of the tent. He’d pulled his knees up to his chest – likely to preserve heat, but it had the side effect of making him seem smaller than his 6’6 frame would suggest was possible. James wanted to pull him against himself then – protect him the best he could from the elements and whatever else could harm him on the mountain. He looked more defenseless than James had ever known him to be.

He gulped, wishing that he’d could shake himself of these thoughts, but unable to tear his eyes away from the man. He was not unfamiliar with these kinds of feelings, but he’d never felt them at this depth before.

_Bad, bad, bad._

He needed to put distance between the two of them – he could get on his horse and ride down the mountain, tell Donner that he needed to leave early, but he couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing Margret. _Again._

The first time it had been with a man named Edward – he’d had a bright, easy smile, and made James feel happier than he’d ever recalled being. He’d also had sticky fingers as it would turn out, pocketing the cash from the register of the general store at the same time he was whispering sweet nothings into James’s ear. He’d only caught Edward after he’d skipped town with most everything he had – ruining him. They also left shortly thereafter, they didn’t have the money to stay and the rumors about what had happened didn’t exactly help matters.

He had given a feeble attempt to deny them to Margret, who’d smiled and nodded like she believed him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She withdrew from him further when he told her that they were going to move out west, but packed her and the children’s stuff up dutifully. She was a good wife.

The second time had been with a guy called John – John Snyder to be precise – who was a large, nasty piece of work which had suited James just fine. He hadn’t wanted the fabrication of care and the lies that had come with Edward, and Snyder in all his cruelty was at least honest about it.

He told James exactly what he was worth and treated him like it to.

Things were good for a while, or good as the could be all things considered. When James came home limping or with bruises where there should be none, nobody said anything – not Margret and certainly not him. She knew though – he could tell by the looks she had sent in his direction when he’d make it back two hours later than he said he’d be in obvious pain, a mix of pity and disgust – but as long as neither of them said anything things could continue.

That was until Snyder showed up at their house late one night, drunk and belligerent, yelling about what he knew James _was_. He’d gone outside to confront the man before the neighbors and the rest of town heard but only earned a fist to his face for the trouble. Snyder had truly began beating on him then, he had thought that the man might kill him – welcomed the possibility even, but Margret brandishing the rifle they kept in the home, shot at the ground where the two men were fighting. This had been enough to scare Snyder into leaving but did not stop him from grabbing at James’s battered face once last time and whispering, _we ain’t through, just you wait._

Margret tried to talk to him as he made his way back to the house slowly, one of his eyes swollen and nose probably broken, but he ignored her – had known that no explanation of his would make what she’d seen and heard better. She didn’t press him, though she should have.

It wasn’t too long after that, that they moved again, not far this time – they couldn’t afford that anymore – just enough to put some distance between himself and Snyder. Margret cried when she first saw the little hovel on the outskirts of the nowhere town – it was nothing like what they’d had back in Springfield, but it would have to do. James didn’t try to comfort her, he knew that she wouldn’t want that from him, not now.

She’d get used to it, he thought, like she always has.

Margret issued James an ultimatum – told him that if he didn’t start providing for her like he’d promised when they got married that she’d move back up to Illinois with her mother and take the children. He couldn’t have that his children were everything to him – he knew they loved him unconditionally despite the wrongness that hid deep within him. He locked that part of himself up – determined to do right for once in his life – and began to search for work wherever he could get it.

He’d found out about the position on Donner’s ranch a short while later and concluded it wouldn’t be that difficult – he’d spent a majority of his teen years on his aunt’s horse farm in Virginia, and figured that gave him enough knowledge to do the job. How different could sheep be from horses anyway? 

They were very different as it turns out, and he’d had a hard time keeping the sheep in line once he and his partner had been set loose to travel up the mountain. The man kept sending annoyed glares in his direction as he picked up the slack, and once they’d got the sheep where they wanted and camp set up he told James, in no uncertain terms, that he didn’t trust him around the animals. He’d been scared that he’d wake up one morning to them all gone, which didn’t sting as much as it could have – James knew he was out of his depth. He’d told him he’d be the one going to watch the sheep each night, while James could keep up camp and make the meals.

Their relationship only had room to improve from there, and it did – slowly at first, as Bill had still been pissed at him for lying about his skill set, but it didn’t take long for them to come to an understanding. With understanding came little conversations and jokes, which then moved further into sharing things like feelings, secrets, and dreams for the future – things that he’s never talked about with anybody before, certainly not with Margret, and not with any of his past dalliances.

This brought them to the problem at present – he’d done it again, developed inappropriate feelings for somebody he ought not to. Bill was a friend – perhaps the best friend that James has ever had, and he wouldn’t do him the disservice of thinking of him in that way, but he couldn’t leave. If he returned home a couple of months before he’d told Margret he’d be back with a few hundred dollars short of what he’d promised, she know he screwed up again and she’d leave, taking the children. He couldn’t even think about what poor Bill would do out here by his lonesome, he knew the man needed this money as much as James did. He had a family back home to support as well, James didn’t think he’d could live with himself he’d jeopardized Bill’s pay.

Not that any of that mattered right now, it was both too dark and too cold to go riding down the mountain, and besides, Mr. Donner wouldn’t be back in his office until morning at the earliest. James cleared all his thoughts beyond those pertaining to the man who was still shuttering against the log besides the now extinguished fire. He huffed out a breath, there would be no other solution to this problem, and he knew it.

It’d be alright though; the only way it could be was alright.

“Bill! Get in here!” He shouted to make sure the man had heard him, throwing his hat in his direction for good measure. He didn’t respond, but the clanging of the cook wear as he stumbled his way to the tent indicated that Bill had heard him.

James lays backdown, hoping that his nervousness is not visible to Bill as he climbs into the tent. The man doesn’t seem to catch it however, seemingly focused only on getting into the spot that James had left open for him. He tumbles into place once he finds it with a sigh and snuffles a little bit before falling asleep once again.

Gentle breaths that ruffle the hairs on the back of his neck are the only part of Bill that touches him, and even that is enough to set James on edge. He forces his eyes closed and attempts to go to sleep. When that doesn’t work he fusses a little bit with the blankets in the guise of getting himself comfortable, but is really just a way to give his restless hands something to do. It just wasn’t happening – no matter how hard he tried. The other man had made it look so easy, but he wasn’t wrong in the way that James was – couldn’t be, Bill was far too good a man for that.

~*~

About thirty minutes into James’s struggle Bill shifts in his sleep, turning on his side and pressing his crotch against James’s ass. He freezes, stopping all fidgeting immediately – can hardly breath for fear of making a mistake. He could feel the man’s half-hard cock from its place pinned between them, it was already sizable even in only this state.

James shifts away some in an effort to put some distance between the two of them, mentally berating himself for his weakness – he was a man and knew this was something that happens, it was perfectly natural in fact. This, however, did not stop his own dick from stirring in his pants as a response. It had been so long since he’d been this close to somebody else, hadn’t had anybody since even before he’d left home. Margret couldn’t look at him most days and he had taken it upon himself to sleep on the ratty sofa in the living room to make it easier on her. He didn’t feel for her in that way anymore besides, probably never did. She deserved a husband who didn’t fantasize about being fucked by any man who was stupid enough to show him kindness, but that’s not what she got. He’d promised to do better by her – try to be the man that she needed, and yet here James was, getting ready to throw it all away again.

Bill moves again putting them in the same position, but this time throws a sleep heavy arm around him that prevents James from trying to pull away further. He releases a quiet whimper at the feeling of the solid weight returning to his backside, whatever little fight he still had fled him and he snakes a reluctant hand to his prick to give himself some relief.

The movement was apparently enough to wake the man besides him, and he shoots up, removing himself from James like he’d been burned. His back was ramrod straight, but his eyes still had a sleepy, confused look about them. James did much the same, pushing himself back to the far side of the tent, breathing unsteadily. He was scared, but thought – hoped – that Bill wouldn’t hurt him, not that he could blame him for doing so.

The man reached across the tent and he braced himself for the impact, but it never came. Instead Bill grabbed a hold of James’s shirt and dragged him bodily back towards him making him yelp in surprise. He didn’t say anything, nor did he wait for very long before roughly capturing James’s lips with his own growling. It felt more like a fight then it did a kiss, teeth clashing, and a big hand fisted in the hair on the back of his head.

He releases him, pulling back panting heavy and staring wide-eyed. They both pause for a moment neither of them wanting to break whatever calm had come over them, but it didn’t last.

Bill hefts James up effortlessly and turns him over so that he’s on his hands and knees – he lets him, didn’t think he could stop him even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. The man then begins fumbling one handed with his belt so that he can pull James’s Jeans down, the other unoccupied one is pressed to his lips, intention clear. He takes the large fingers offered into his mouth, twisting his tongue lovingly around each one making sure to coat them liberally with spit as he knew where they were going. He was sure that he was drooling but didn’t care. The man had finally undone James’s belt, and he pulls down his pants and underwear with a small triumphant noise and moves on to mouth at what little neck that he has access to, a reward for his victory while James continues to work. It makes it hard to think and has him forgetting whatever little dignity he has left.

The man withdraws his fingers impatiently, shocking James out of the stupor that he’d found himself in. Bill doesn’t warn him before he’s pushing one of them inside of him, and the man beneath him issues a hiss of displeasure at the intrusion, he wasn’t exactly being gentle. He should tell him to stop but finds that he doesn’t mind though he knows he probably should. This was better then what he’d gotten with Snyder who didn’t even bother, and the slight stinging pain was keeping him grounded – stopping all this from going to his head.

He reaches in between his legs to grab his cock that had started to flag due to the rough treatment and starts to stroke it in time with Bill’s movements within him. It doesn’t take much for it fill fully again, and James would have found it embarrassing had the other man not chosen to add a second digit just then.

He gasps and falls to his elbows, the additional pressure nearly too much. The only thing stopping him from falling over completely was Bill’s strong grip on his hip keeping him where he wanted him – it was likely to leave bruises, which he welcomed as a reminder that this had all been real.

The man above him works purposely towards his goal, stretching him to get him ready. It reminds James of the way that he is with the animals, single-minded. He has no time for distractions nor comfort when he’s on the Job. Doesn’t talk neither, though James very much wishes he would now. Snyder had talked nonstop when they had been together, if only as a way to further his cruelty. Bill wouldn’t be like that – or James didn’t think so. He’d heard the things the man whispers to that temperamental bay stallion of his when he thought nobody was listening – he’d wondered what it might be like to hear the same things in his direction instead.

_Darlin’_

_Sweet Thing_

_Good Boy_

James moans loudly and rocks his hips up once the man hits that special place inside him – any pain or discomfort forgotten. He should quiet himself down some – is being shameless – but can’t manage it, especially not when he sees the look on Bill’s face out the corner of his eye. He was like a coyote left alone with a herd of sheep, both hungry and predatory – so he keeps crying out, it doesn’t matter anyway, they were all alone out here.

Bill removes his fingers and undoes his own belt so he can pull his jeans and underthings down, spits into his hand and gives himself a couple of hard tugs. James turns his head to watch the process with great interest. He’d been right earlier, the man was big, far bigger than the fingers that had been inside of him before. He wonders if he’ll be able to take it all – licks his lips. 

The other man clears his throat his eyebrows raised questioningly; James had been caught staring. His cheeks would have gone red had they not already been so from their current activities, so settles for making an embarrassed little noise and moving his head so that he’s facing forward again, his forehead pressed into the ground. Bill doesn’t let him simmer in it for very long, lines himself up and pushes in with out much fanfare.

All of the air within James’s lungs whooshes out of him as the man fully seats himself, and he doesn’t get much time to adjust before Bill starts to thrust into him in earnest. He takes hold of his cock again to offset the hurt some. Spit, sweat, and Bill’s own fluid doing only a little to ease the discomfort, the punishing pace the other man set doing him no favors. He’d power through, reminds himself that he has had worse.

“Fuck – _fuck, Bill please_.” James gasps after the man finally rams himself hard into his sweet spot – could have nearly cried in relief but held himself together.

“ _More please, c’mon._ ” He begs again, something he was generally too proud to do, but he can’t stop the pleas from tumbling from his mouth. Bill obliges though, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck and positioning himself so that with each thrust he’d be driving himself exactly where James wanted him to be.

He’s close to finishing, his dick leaking all over the hand wrapped around it. He pulls at it quicker, and releases with a shout on to his own shirt and fist. Bill fucks him through it, groaning at the feeling of James’s body clenching around him. Slams into him a couple more times before reaching his own end, hands gripped tightly around his hips and groaning as he does so.

He places panting kisses at the back of James’s head and neck, before pulling himself out a trickle of his own leavings following him. He scrunches his nose up at the feeling, but he can’t be bothered cleaning himself up tonight – it was too cold anyway – and lets himself fall face first until the messy pile of blankets and single hard pillow without pulling up his pants. He expects Bill to follow him, but he doesn’t, and James lifts his head to take a look at what’s holding him up.

The man is resting back on his heels and staring at him, looking stricken. James tries to sit up – worried now – but wincing, cannot manage it. Bill’s expression only darkens further.

“I’ve had worse.” He says, more like whispers as his voice is horse from yelling. “You haven’t done anything to me that I didn’t want.” The look on his face shifted into anger then, but before he can try to say anything, he lifts a hand up to pull the man down next to him. He didn’t want to talk about Snyder nor Edward tonight, not while he had Bill here, a man who actually seemed to care that’d he’d hurt James instead of accepting it as some inevitability.

He fought it at first, but finally went willingly, pulling James up to rest on his chest who hummed with pleasure at this arrangement. Bill stroked his bearded cheek and placed comforting kisses to the top of his head, and whispered soft apologies and promises while James drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to follow me for more Donner Party/The Hunger related material, you can do so @JamsWaggon on twitter. 
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to give this a read!


End file.
